Kill or be Killed
by renners
Summary: The car crash. A fire. The circus. The Red Room. This is the origin story of Clint and Natalia, and the horror's they had to face.
1. Chapter 1

_Hi there :) this is my first origin story, and I've read a few, which have sparked an interest within me, because you can toy around with the characters and write how you want to write. Leave a review, they motivate, and tell me what you think so far!_

**Crash.**

It's not like anyone expected it to happen to us, no one does, of course. It was no ones fault, although in my young years of age I blamed the people with the out of control car. But they didn't survive, either.

Having to see their blank faces, the blood and gore that leaked and dripped from their bodies and stained and smeared all over the place was the worse. I didn't move, didn't even breath, as I looked into the faces of my brunette mother, her blue eye's wide and scared and staring, my sandy haired father, who I resembled so much, and my young sister, her tiny limbs twisted in all the wrong ways.

Then I screamed, and I lashed out, ignoring the pain that came with it. There was sticky blood all over me, and most of it wasn't even mine. I almost didn't register the fact that I was being hauled out of the car along with my older brother.

Police officers and ambulances swarmed around us and everything was beginning to blur with the tears that refused to stop spilling down my face. My brother, four years older then me at the age of thirteen, sat on the road, face in his hands as he crumpled into sadness.

Someone gripped my shoulders and placed a shock blanket around me, and I threw one last glance at the totalled car that my father used to be so proud of, before I was lead into an ambulance, followed by my brother, and the doors slid closed, and everything became too much to bear, and I fell into unconsciousness.

This is what it feels like to lose the ones most important to you.

**Fire. **

Hot, sweat, smoke, flames.

The house, tumbling down around me as I ran down the stairs. My gown was covered in soot but I didn't care. No one was screaming, no one was running around, and my biggest fear came true when I saw the bodies of my mother and father, huddled close together as the flames roared about them.

My older sister lay in a crumpled and unrecognizable pile at the foot of the stares, and I let out a terrified shriek as I saw her burnt and melted face, sticky blood leaking to the floor.

I tripped over an over turned chair, falling to the ground. The smoke was becoming unbearable, and I let out a haggard cough as my eyes watered from the smoke and tears that refused to slow down. I crawled towards my mother and father. His burns weren't as bad as my sisters, although they marred his body and blood was seeping through his clothes.

My mother mumbled something and turned to face me. I cried out, slamming my body onto her and gripping her shoulders. I felt her hand wander to my tear stained face, her fingers unusually cold against my skin even in the heat.

"Natalia…" she murmured, smiling up at me as a tear leaked down her face. She tucked a loose red curl behind my ear, and I gripped her wrist. She sat up as the roof caved in on the other side of the room, wincing in pain as she looked around in fear.

She looked at me, a determined glint in her eye. She stood up, taking my small body in her arms.

"I love you." She whispered, and suddenly I was flying as she threw me out the window, glass shattering around me. The last thing I saw was my mother fall back beside my father as the roof caved in all around her.

I screamed, the cold air suddenly hitting me as I flew through the wind and watched the house burst into flames.

I landed in the cold snow, the air knocking out of my lungs at the impact as I rolled down the slope and was slammed against a tree.

I curled into a ball, watched as the two-story house continued to burn and roar in flames.

"Is that your house?" came a voice from behind me. I didn't know how long it had been, how long I'd been sitting there, sobbing into my gown in the freezing cold snow. I turned around. A man with black hair and a black moustache stood with his arms crossed over his chest and a blanket hung over his shoulder. I nodded.

"Everyone's dead." My small voice sounded shrill in the cold night.

"How old are you?" he asked, coming to kneel in front of me.

"Five." I whispered, white air drifting out of my mouth at the words. A glint appeared in his eye, and it made me uneasy.

"Would you like to come with me?" he held out the blanket, which looked warm and inviting to my cold and shivering form. I frowned, looking back at my smouldering house, then back at the man with a warm smile and strange glint in his eye.

Then I nodded, handing myself over to any humans worse nightmare.


	2. Chapter 2

_Authors note: I know the chapters are only short, but I promise they will become interesting after I get all the necessities out of the way!_

_In this chapter, Clint is now 15, Barney is 19 (faking his age to stay in the orphanage) and Natalia is 7. _

_PS. Although Clint has been in the orphanage for six years and Natalia has been with Ivan for two, the time-span is different. Natalia is only four years younger then Clint in this story, get what I mean? So all these events didn't happen at the same time. _

**Abuse.**

The orphanage my brother and I were sent to was on the very outskirts of Iowa, an old, tattered place that held the residents of thirty-two boys and girls that varied in ages from three to seventeen. It came clear that those who reached the maturity age of eighteen were kicked out to fend for themselves in the big wide world.

Our handlers, on the other hand, were like a duplicate of our mother and father. Abusive, drunk, and very fake when it came to the authorities. I often witnessed my brother earning harsh beatings because of his sharp tongue and determination to protect me. Sometimes it was a punch, or a kick, or an offending attack with a bat or a glass bottle. The cane had often been used, and I was always there to patch up his injuries by candlelight when everyone was asleep.

I'd earn my own fair share of beatings, but I was used to it. And for some reason, my frightened stormy eyes would often keep their attacks at bay.

We made few friends in the place, forming our own little group of kids that we would hang with when we got the occasional walk to the park or were allowed to play outside when all the chores and housework was finished.

"Why do you get so upset about your parents dying?" a girl at the age of seven once asked. "They abused you, you should be happy they can't hurt you anymore."

I didn't know how to answer her at first, because she was right. But Barney had explained it to me once.

"They were the only people we had grown to love, no matter how they treated us. Think about our sister, too. We lost her and she hadn't even learnt how to walk or talk. Of course we'd be upset. But then, we've been condemned to the same life here, too."

It took me a while to understand what he meant by 'condemned' because of the lack of education we were earning. Eventually the authorities came in and demanded a tutor for us children, and I became a particularly enthusiastic student, earning higher grades then the rest and causing jealousy to seep from my brother.

We'd been living in the orphanage for an overall of six years. One night, Barney woke me from my sleep and we crept through the halls without waking another child, making our way up into the attic.

"You see that?" he whispered.

I rubbed at the dirt on the window with my sleeve, right where my eyes were level to.

"Wow." I whispered in awe.

We had always known that the circus came about every year, but never have we seen it for real. The massive red and white tent seemed to rise into the sky, lights surrounding it as shadows danced from the inside, the silhouettes of people flying through the air or walking on rope barely visible from where we watched.

"It's cool, hey?" I nodded in agreement.

"Too bad we can never go." I sighed. He glanced down at me and frowned.

"We will, one day."

I smiled at his positiveness.

"You know I have to leave soon, right?"

I glanced over at him. His brown eyes were glazed with sadness as he stared out of the window.

"What do you mean?"

He chuckled darkly, running a hand through his dark brown hair.

"They're going to realise I'm over eighteen soon enough. I'm already earning accusing looks from the other kids here and I tower over everyone else. They're going to kick me out, and I might not see you again for a very long time."

He placed a hand on my shoulder, and I frowned, understanding his words and knowing they were too true. I glanced back at the tent, at the lights and roamed in the air, at the freedom of the performers silhouettes and the troubles they didn't have to fear.

"No." I decided, walking away from the window. "I won't let it happen."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, turning to face me.

"We don't deserve this life; we have potential. I see the way you long to get out of this place, and I know your only faking your age and staying here because of me. I wont let you throw your life away. We're leaving."

He looked dumbfounded, but hopeful, and we both cracked up laughing for no reason at all.

"Where do you plan we go?" he chuckled, breathing hard with tears in his eyes.

I pointed out the window.

"We're joining the circus."

**Fear.**

Why are all these people watching me? Why am I here? Where am I? Where is Ivan?

Someone from the corner of the room stepped forward, and I stared warily as he stood over me, examining my body closely as I lay on the uncomfortable bed. He grabbed my chin and moved my head from side to side, looking at my features and scrutinizing my young face with interest.

"_She has potential_." He mumbled, releasing my chin none too gently. "_Her features will grow to be striking. But what about her physical form? Does she hold talent?"_

A familiar voice rang through the room all of a sudden, and I lifted my head to see Ivan striding in through the door. I flashed him a smile, but he glared at me, his eyes cold, and I felt my heart thud uncomfortably in my chest.

"_She can be trained to have talent_."

I frowned, unable to process what was being heard through my young ears. Why was Ivan being mean?

The people in the room scribbled on their clipboards furiously, murmuring to each other in Russian, and I only caught a few things they said.

"_Ivan_?" I mumbled, sitting up, the rough material of my hospital gown harsh against my soft skin. "_What's going on_?"

"_You're going to make Russia proud." _He replied, not looking at me. _"Like I taught you to within years I took you in."_

A woman grabbed my upper arm and yanked me off the bed, and I stumbled behind her as she dragged me across the room.

"_She is approved."_ She called back to the rest of the people in the room. I looked back at Ivan, who was smiling an evil smile I'd never seen on him before.

"_Don't disappoint me, Natalia." _He yelled, and I was dragged into a room with doctors and monitors and surgical equipment that were sharper then any knife I'd ever seen before.

I was thrown onto a metal table, my hospital gown ripped open and revealing my exposed body. I gasped at the sudden coldness, and the doctors all spread around me, each holding a syringe filled with blue liquid that seemed to be almost glowing.

"_Hold her down!" _An older doctor demanded, mouth hidden behind a surgical mask. I glanced around in fear as three strong men stepped forward and gripped my shoulders and legs, stopping any movements from my weak struggles.

"_We shall proceed."_

All I saw was the glint of each syringe in the white light before the needles were plunged into various parts of my body, and suddenly it felt like I had been engulfed in the flames that killed my family.

I let out a horrified shriek. I saw red.

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